So this week's feature in ArtVoice is all about Bethlehem Steel and how about practically everyone that worked for Bethlehem Steel died from cancer. I spent the first eight years of my life in Bethlehem Park, a small little cul de sac in the first ward of Lackawanna that's surrounded by the old steel plant. My dad spent over half his life there and my grandmother spent all of her life there. To my knowledge, my grandparents are about the only people to have lived in the Park and not have died from cancer. (My grandfather had 15, yes 15, strokes and my grandmother died from a heart attack.) It's a neighbourhood, built pretty much by Bethlehem Steel for their workers and at least three generations grew up in the shadow of those ugly buildings. The house I lived in as a young child was in the back of the Park, down by the bocce courts and the rail road tracks. Behind us was this big empty building known as the Foundary. I never knew what used to go on in the foundary when I was a little girl, it was just old and there and hovering over us like some oppressive warden or something. My mother told me a story of when I was little and it started to rain and the laundry ws drying on the line, so she quick ran out in her bare feet to fetch it in and the bottoms of her feet felt like they were on fire. Two women that lived in that same house, our old landlord's wife, and the present owner's wife, both died from cancer. Jean was in her early 50's. Kimmy was 41, maybe 42. Kimmy spent her entire life in that neighbourhood.

I remember my grandmother and her siblings talking about how when the Steel Plant was in full swing, whenever the smoke stacks would open up, women would literally run to bring the laundry in and make sure the kids were in the house because otherwise everything would have been ruined by whatever smoke would be coming out of the stacks. My dad's uncle through marriage told me and my brothers a story about when he had bought a brand new powder blue car in the 60's and it was parked in the lot at Lackawanna High School. The first day he had it, they opened the stacks at the Steel Plant, the wind changed direction and the dust that deposited on his car was a red, rusty dust. After work that day, he went out and used his hand to brush off the car and the rusty dust had eaten through the top of the paint.

And every day since around 1900, people were breathing that in! It was in their food because everyone in the Park had gardens and grew and canned as much of their own as they could. It was in their clothes, in their water, it was everywhere.

The article talks about how it affected the workers and that is so very true, but that's not all that that beast affected. And it's still there, all of the "Hot Spots", all of the grossly contaminated places and in the name of the almighty dollar and Big Business, the Bethlehem Steel Corporation effectively condemned generations.

Is "Beautiful" by Joydrop.

"If I was beautiful like you
All the things I would do
Those not so blessed would be crying out murder
and I'd just laugh and get away with it to
Like you do.

If I was beautiful like you
I would never be at fault.
I'd walk in the rain between the rain drops
Bringing traffic to a halt.

But that will never be
'Cuz I'm not beautiful like you.
I'M BEAUTIFUL LIKE ME!..."

Okay that's half of the song lyrics. For those of you that don't know it, it's totally badass and you need to go find it. For those of you that do know it- kudos to you! Yes, yes. I'm Beautiful like me! And that is the most important sentiment of the day. At least for me.

Sometimes, it's amazing how a conversation with one's best friend tends to make one feel much, much better. I realized the last time that I was in a dangerously low place that I am the one the does it to me, no one else is to blame. It's me and the thoughts that once they get started, don't seem to be able to stop, and it snow balls and then I'm in a really ugly place. That didn't happen this time because I am learning. It's all about me. I am the cause of my own happiness and own sadness, well, maybe not *ALL* of my sadness, but a good chunk of it is in my control. Which is nice as a control freak who understands that control is just an illusion, at least with something like that, I know I can control it. Or at least ride it out. So for all of you who cared and wrote me lovely little encouraging notes, Thank You! ever so much! Today, I am a much better me! :)

Well, I have not slipped into listening to Portishead yet, which is good. I think the weather is reflecting my mood. And honestly, I'm probably just moody from being run down. I'm tired. I want to sleep and dare not yet as I will just get up in a couple of hours and then be up all night which is not good. I want to be crafty and do things but at the same time I just can't be bothered. I want to talk to my friends but then I will have to explain things, tell them things, which I won't do if I don't talk to them, and, again, I just can't be bothered.

Friends with benefits, that's what I need. Actually, it's sort of what I'm looking for and what I haven't found and that, quite honestly, is a part of my funk- along with tiredness and confusion and too much change far too fast and just life in general. I'm coming down with some sort of throat infection. I can feel it. My throat is always the first body part to get taken down by germs. Time for homeopathy, I think. I just can't be bothered. I think I kind of enjoy the scratchy irritation as it reminds me that I'm still alive and it makes me appreciate my voice which I only ever seem to appreciate when it's in jeopardy. When I can't sing, I'm a basket case. I think that's all for now. I need to get out of my head- stop thinking How does one really do that? I certainly don't know.

I think it's officially time to become a hermit, again. I do this, where cloister myself in my home and just dwell there, and if I didn't have to leave, to go to work and interact with people, then I wouldn't. I'm horribly confused and sort of torn up inside right now and it's not over who it ought to be over. So, I'm going to retreat, go inside myself and either face myself- my demons, or just cower in there- in my little interior dream world that no one but myself can pull me out of. I'm in a funk and I don't know how long it will last. I could snap out of it tomorrow, then again I might not.

Sometimes, being a genuinely kind, caring person really kind of sucks. Guys never want the good girls, not really. Of course, if any actually bothered to find out what the hell is underneath, they might be very surprised. What I project, which I don't even know what that is anymore, is not who I am, merely an aspect. I have to go. I have to try to at least snap out of this. I cannot stand feeling like this. The Price is Right worked, at least for a little while.

I think my theme song for today would be Ugly Kid Joe's "I Hate Everything About You". Not because I actually hate anyone in particular, but because that's the mood I'm in.

• I did just have my first actual, real smile of the day!* There's hope afterall!